Evening My Lovelies

So we're going back into the past to see how things all started today, I hope you like the little peak :D

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Chapter Three: (Past) The Start Of It All

To the casual onlooker, the day was just like any other in the musketeer regiment. The sounds of clashing blades and lighthearted banter filled the garrison as the men sparred and socialized among themselves but to the more observant they would notice the thin layer of tension underlying the group, though it was concentrated mostly on a trio of men sat just off to the side of the training area.

"What has happened?" asked Aramis as he glanced at Athos, a worried look in his eyes that he didn't bother to attempt to hide as he waited for a response from his brother who had just returned from yet another meeting with the regiment's leader.

For a moment it appeared the swordsman wasn't going to answer, choosing instead to grab a nearby bottle of wine, taking a long drag of the beverage before letting out a long sigh, knowing what he was about to say would not go down well with either man.

"Issac has sent word," he said solemnly, pausing for just a moment to temper his growing anger before he continued. "They were attacked by bandits as they began their journey back." Gasps of alarm and looks of worry and concern followed his announcement but Athos continued before either man could speak, knowing full well what the next question from both of them would be. "Issac suffered a bad slash to his leg which needed, according to his letter, a lot of stitches but that seems to be the worst of it for him. The physician who tended to him has advised him to hold off from riding for at least a week, least he rip out the stitches so he and Favier won't be leaving the town they're currently hold up in for a while."

Aramis let out a small sigh of relief as he took in the fact that although his friend was injured he was at least somewhere safe and was being treated to by a physician, though it was Porthos who picked up on what Athos had said and cut the marksman's relief short.

"The worst of it for him?" asked the larger man, "So Favier got the brunt of the attack?"

"He's… in a worse shape than Issac," continued Athos as he felt his own anger for the situation grow. "Apparently, he took a blow that was meant for Issac shortly after Issac's leg had been injured. According to the letter Issac sent the blow would have sliced his throat given he was on his knees but because Favier was standing it hit him in the chest. Thankfully they had taken out most of their assailants at that point so between them were able to take out the last few before more harm could be done."

Both Aramis and Porthos let out hushed curses at this before Aramis pressed for more information on the pair.

"Issac didn't say much more, only that they were both okay for now and would send word again before they begin their journey back," Athos answered before nodding his head absently in thanks to the servant who brought over a basket of bread for the trio, along with another jug of water.

"Was it the same group as the others?" asked Aramis with a touch of worry in his voice as his hand absent-mindedly moved to touch the rosary around his neck.

Athos nodded, "Issac's letter confirmed their attacker bore the same insignia and seemed to know exactly what to target, several of them had taken the package from the Duke from them before fleeing, leaving the rest of the group to continue the assault on Issac and Favier.

Porthos let out a long string of curses at that. For weeks now the musketeer regiment had been the targets of a highly organized group of bandits or mercenaries. Several members of the regiment had been forced to fight for their lives during what should have been either easy or secret missions, this had left the whole garrison on edge, something the larger musketeer was sure would only get worse when they learned of the most recent attack.

"What of the pup? Any word from him?" When the regiment finally got lucky and narrowed down the location to a possible home base for the group D'Artagnan had volunteered to investigate it himself, seeing as he was not yet a musketeer, nor a well-known figure, given his arrival to the city only a few months prior.

The inseparables had been reluctant to send the boy in, especially without backup given the last time they sent him off alone he had ended up tied to a load of explosive barrels. However, the increasing severity of the attacks coupled with the obvious fact they would not be able to send recognizable musketeers in and the boy's own stubborn pressing of the issue eventually wore the trio down and they agreed to take the matter to Treville and support him as he made his case to the Captain.

"Not a word," sighed the swordsman as he downed even more wine. It had not felt right to him to send the youngster off but he could also appreciate that the boy was desperate to prove himself, not just to them but to the King in hopes of earning a commission, seemingly unaware that they already considered him one of them even though he lacked the official title.

"That's not too surprising," commented Aramis, though he did little to hide the worry in his eyes, knowing his brothers wouldn't judge him for it. "We drilled into him about not sending anything unless he was sure it was safe to do so, he either hasn't seen anything of note or isn't in a position to send anything without drawing unneeded attention to himself."

Porthos nodded, "Plus the kid's stubborn and determined to get his commission that he'd probably hold off longer than he should to send anything in the hopes of solving it all himself."

Aramis scowled and narrowed his eyes at this brother, "That's not as comforting a thought as you might have meant it to be mon ami."

Porthos let out a small laugh which quickly tailed off when he saw the conflicted look on Athos's face… "'Thos?"

Thinking his brother was simply worried about their youngest, especially given the bond quickly forming between the two Aramis was quick to jump in. "I'm sure Porthos is right mon ami," he offered soothingly, "Our boy is fine."

For a moment Aramis thought his words had worked but then Athos let off a soft sigh before shaking his head. "The Captain doesn't see it that way," he said quietly, his words causing the group to fall silent as the two other men took in what was said.

Porthos let out a small, forced laugh, "What? Does he think pup's involved or something?"

The silence from Athos following that spoke volumes and both Porthos and Aramis practically jumped up in outrage.

"You can't be serious!"

"How could he think that!"

This continued for a little bit before Athos raised his hand silencing the pair and prompting them to, reluctantly, sit back down. "I said the same to Treville," assured Athos, though the look on his face was not very convincing. "Though I can see where he is coming from. Even if he doesn't want to believe it, he, at the very least, must consider it given there have been too many instances for it to be pure coincidence."